Iconic Psychotic
by SixWS
Summary: The safe suburban gated community of Di Grassi was never a haven for trouble. An unforeseen slaughter of the Rivas family raise suspicion and bodies begin to pile toward an unraveling message. "On the count of three, I want you to run back into that room, climb through the window and call for help, Clare. I don't want you to hesitate for any reason."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys, so I know this was originally a Clew only story but it's more than that and i'm not labeling the couple right now. It is a Eclew story if that makes it any better. You'll get the best of both worlds. And maybe a little girl on girl loving. I just really love the idea and plot and I know a lot of you will enjoy how different this is. I have been dying to write this. It's a bit darker than my usual style and it is a bit of a horror fic. I really hope that my readers still read along for the story line, because it's going to be SUPER shocking and interesting. I hope you all enjoy this new twist. I present to you: **_**Iconic Psychotic**_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Building our funeral<strong>_

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><p>It was but a mere mid-fall breeze that scurried over the hereditary gated community in which its official namesake derived from an Italian bloodline that migrated to the states in the late 1800's: Di Grassi. A curb just down the smoothly conglomerated street resided multiple provincial homes with state of the art alarm systems, deteriorating cut grass with scattered autumn leaves, and antiquely carved post-boxes that aligned coercively with every other one within the premises.<p>

One home in particular that held the numbers 120 on a golden plate habitually on the side of the pale house, contained an unfathomably ironic discrepancy beyond the transparent windows.

Zoe Rivas, a vibrantly sheepish six-teen year old who was a student at Degrassi High, sat in her fuchsia and sandy painted abode. She had just received a good-night phone call from her short-term boyfriend, Drew Torres. They weren't in-love but, they shared an unquestionable endearment with each other enough to leave her stomach fluttering with waves of fond excitement. Her quarter-length vertically groomed hair was pulled back into a neat French Braid.

It was already one o'clock in the morning when she gently fell back into the deep cushions of her pillow and her recently shut eyes shot open at an eerily uncommon sound. She laid motionless in bed, awaiting for a replay to confirm her unsure suspicions that it was just her imagination affected by her exhaustion.

The sound erupted once more, just slightly much more audible than before. Zoe threw herself towards her bedroom door, pressing the drum of her ear against it.

"Zig, if you're plotting another prank on mom and dad again, you might want to keep it down." She whispered irritably.

When she waited for a response that never deemed itself, she nervously swung the door open and crept her bare feet over the well-polished wooden floor and dark hallway. She tilted her body to get a glimpse of the luxurious living room downstairs. The lights were dimmed as normal but movement ceased to exist, and only a minute breeze quivered the glass on the chandelier. She turned back around and quietly headed to her younger brothers bedroom.

When she attempted to enter the room, she was obstructed when she realized his door was locked. In that instant, she felt a well-organized line of ants clamber the back of her legs, arms, and back. Wearing only loose flowered slumber shorts and a strap tank, the odd senses of shaken weariness felt heightened at the rapid beat of her heart.

Zoe took a deep breath and rushed across the hall to her parents' bedroom, with intent to alert them that her brother was in some sort of trouble.

"Mom-"

Zoe paused not even mid-way of her sentence once she witnessed the gruesome spewing of deep crimson liquid coming from her father's neck. A knife held what was left of his neck in place, his body just dangling, ready to detach itself. Her mother's face was shielded by a pillow, letting Zoe know that she was suffocated, but the moist sheets indicated she was penetrated with a sharp object multiple times.

Zoe turned and slammed the door of her parents' bedroom shut and turned the lock to secure her in place. She ran to the house phone on the bed side table, dialing the emergency line.

"911 dispatch, what's your emergency?"

"My name is Zoe Rivas, I live at 120 Di Grassi lane and my parents were slaughtered in their own bedroom! Th-theres blood everywhere and I think the killer might be in my brother's room." Zoe enunciated rapidly in hyperventilation.

"Okay ma'm I've alerted the authorities and they're on their way now. How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen." She sobbed while sliding down the wall in the corner of the room away from the door.

"Okay, are you in a safe place?"

Zoe sniffled in fear. "Yes. I locked myself in my parent's room."

"Okay, sweetie I'm going to make sure you're safe. Is there a closet or somewhere you can conceal yourself from noise and sight?"

Zoe nodded her head vigorously, rushing up to the make her way towards the closet. "Yeah. I'll get in now. How much longer do I have to-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

"Zoe? Zoe? Are you still there?"

...

One week elapsed since the cessation of Zoe Rivas and her family. The unfortunate occurrence made national news, claiming that the ruthless butcher was a threat to the entire nation instilling a control of media fear.

In local news in the small community of Di Grassi and Degrassi High, speculation of the infamous Alexander Di Grassi's vengeful soul had defied aesthetics and religion and inaugurated itself into the physical world. Of course, that was only one of the many malicious rumors going around.

One frequently suggested was that Zig Novak Rivas and Drew Torres were the masterminds. Both Zig and Drew were questioned as possible suspects. Drew had a plausible alibi. Records proved that Zoe contacted the authorities twenty minutes after speaking to Drew whose call was traced out of town at his grandparents home, where Drew had gone last weekend. The weekend Zoe was killed. Zig was found at the scene, hidden under his bed in his room. No evidence had led to Zigs guilt, in which he returned to being a victim of the crime as well. He hadn't spoken much since then.

"In other Degrassi news, I'd like to thank the entire student body and faculty for coming out to the mourning of Zoe Rivas and her family. This recent tragedy has affected us all and we can only keep her in our memory. And in respect to the Rivas family finding justice, let's hope that the heartless monster behind this is found and put away for the rest of his life. Have a happy Friday and until then, lock your doors and stay safe. That's all for Degrassi news."

"That was great Imogen." Clare Edwards, Vice President of Degrassi stood behind camera man Adam Torres, as she watched anchor-woman, Imogen Moreno conclude her on-air speech.

"Thanks, Claresters." Imogen responded with an approving smile.

"Have you spoken to Drew?" Imogen directed her curiosity towards Adam, who was Drew's step-brother.

Adam nodded his head. "Yeah. He's fine, I guess. I think he's just overwhelmed with the bloody details."

"I mean, who wouldn't. It's one thing that he was dating Zoe, and it's another thing that the killer himself recorded and posted the video all over the internet." Clare addressed logically.

Imogen placed her hands over her eyes. "Noooooooo! I couldn't even get through ten seconds of that video."

"I didn't even bother." Clare added. "I wouldn't be able to handle It. Just hearing about it was enough for me."

"Clare." A tall, well-dressed man by the name of Principal Simpson appeared. "Can I have a word?"

Adam and Imogen both looked at Clare, who returned the eye contact before following the principal to his office.

"I'm going to be a little more lenient with the duties for Drew as president and I'm hoping you can pick up after until he's ready to dive back into the responsibilities of council."

"Of course, sir. I have no problem with that."h

"Thank you, Clare. I knew I could count on you."

Clare nodded her head in respect and pushed herself up from the chair to leave.

"Oh, and Clare."

The blue eyed venus swirled around in correspondence.

"I know Drew's your friend and he's refused to see at least see a counselor. I was wondering if maybe you could talk to him. Just make sure he's well." He appeared to be truly concerned for his student.

Clare assured him he'd take on that duty as well, but in reality Clare hadn't spoken to Drew at all since the incident. It's not that she didn't want to. She knew him well enough and when he was ready to talk, he'd come to her. He always did.

Clare had been best friends with Drew since freshman year when she was assigned to tutor him in geometry. Through him, she'd met Adam and the Torres family and since then had become a well acquainted guest in the Torres household and vice-versa. They were justifiably inseparable. No one ever questioned their friendship for a romance because it appeared solid and solely platonic

Elijah Goldsworthy, better known as Eli, transferred to Degrassi High his junior year. Clare was a sophomore then and they had been introduced through a mutual friendship with Adam. Eli was instantly infatuated with her intelligence and her wisecrack humor. They eventually fell in love and lived out an epically romanticized relationship all through-out high school.

Drew never settled the way Clare did. His captivation with a girl was always short-lived, much like his relationships with them. He never found himself truly satisfied with a girl. Clare was supportive of every relationship Drew got into, but Drew on the other hand was only civil with Eli for the sake of his best friend. He always found his ill-behaved influence on Clare in causing mischief corrupting. There was one instance where Clare and Drew got into a scandalous dispute which almost cost them their friendship.

Clare never again spoke to Drew about her relationship with Eli. She confided in her best girlfriend, Imogen Moreno in that sense. That was until recently this year when Eli had traveled to New York City for College. His first week in residential housing, he hooked up with two girls. Clare found out two weeks later and was devastated.

Drew wanted to _kill_ Eli. He had seen Clare at her best and worst, but he'd never witnessed someone in such a dispiriting state. Two months have passed since the break-up and Clare seemed better.

_Hey, meet me in council room during lunch? _

_-Drew_

Clare had received a text just as she left Principal Simpsons office.

_I'll be there._

_-Clare_

...

The council room withheld two long couches for lounging, a mini kitchen area on the other side of the sub-divided room, some chairs and a long meeting table. Drew sat on the colored couches, his head resting on the plush of the furniture, his eyes dropped shut.

"Hey, I left class a little early to stop by The Dot and picked you up a box of your favorite mini-donuts." Clare walked in, clad in a black long sophisticated winter coat. She held a white coffee cup that read 'The Dot', and a rectangular prism box that contained the desserts she just referred to.

"You're pink." He chuckled, noticing the faint shade of crimson that surrounded her pale cheeks and nose.

"Well, it is November and about say, twenty-nine degrees out." Clare remarked, putting down the coffee cup and box to unbutton her coat. "So," Clare plunked herself down onto the couch next to Drew. "Let's talk." She offered him a donut, and he reached into the box.

"You know my weakness." He smiled thankfully. "You're the best Clare." He added gloomily, looking down at the frosted treat.

"I know." She lifted her eyebrow, taking a cautious sip from her steaming hot coffee. "Do you miss her?"

"You know, you're the first person to ask me that. Everyone's always 'Are you okay? have you spoken to anyone? do you know the killer?'"

Clare giggled incredulously. "Okay, the last one's a bit ridiculous."

"Tell that to the world." He responded pessimistically. "And to answer your question, yes. She was a cool girl. I'm not like, depressed or whatever, it's not like I loved her. I just can't put together why anyone would do such a thing, especially to Zoe."

"I don't know why anyone would do such a thing to _anyone. _The person who did it is sick and doesn't deserve to be out there right now. But, there's not much we can really do. It's an open investigation and knowing how strong the Police Department is here, they'll find him."

"You're right." Drew's voice cracked, his deep voice suddenly trembling in melancholy. "I know you probably didn't see the video, but I found myself replaying it over and over again."

Clare's face contorted into many mixed emotions, the overbearing emotion border lining between grief and condolence.

"And I couldn't help but hear something. Something that told me there are _others_ involved."

"As in plural killers?" Clare asked bewildered. "W-wait, what exactly gave you that idea?"

Drew sighed. "I don't know if anyone really noticed, but right before the video ends, someone picks it up and turns it off while the killer is still assaulting Zoe."

Clare's astonishment with this ideology compels her to tilt her head while she really lets Drew's revelation sink in.

"So…these people…must've had a motive?"

"Exactly."

"That's strange. Zoe was so harmless. I don't think she's even ever said an immoral word in her mind."

"It's so strange, yet I don't think I'll ever get any answers."

Clare set the coffee cup on the table and brought Drew into a warm embrace. "Oh, Drew. I'm so, so sorry. I really wish this wasn't happening." She massaged his back tenderly, drawing a weak smile from him. He simply sighed, finding some sort of relief and peace in Clare's arms.

"I haven't been able to sleep." Drew broke the comfortable silence as he pulled back. "Do you think we can have a sleep over?"

"We haven't had one of those in forever." Clare recalled.

"Yeah, well last I remember it was because Eli didn't 'approve'." Drew mocked.

When Clare and Eli first started, Clare was frequently staying at the Torres residence. Mainly because Clare's father was never home after her mom left and she was scared being home all alone. Audra Torres, Drew and Adam each loved Clare to pieces and welcomed her to stay whenever deemed necessary. Eli blew it completely out of proportion and threatened to leave Clare. One of the many threats Drew came to discover later on. He was never life threatening, just very manipulative.

"Yeah…" Clare feigned laughter. "Eli and I had our own sleep-overs…"

"I figured." Drew responded, feeling guilty for bringing him up.

"You know, he facetimed me last night?"

"Clare, c'mon don't tell me after all the progress you've made you're going to take that two-timing pig back."

Clare shook her head annoyed. "No. I'm not. He was just apologizing for everything…and he heard about Zoe. He asked about you and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"That idiot never gave a rat's ass about me. He's just finding an excuse to talk to you again." He countered obviously bothered.

"He may have hurt me but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. Besides, Adams his best friend.

"I don't care." He retorted agile. "Just…can you stay over? I really need this."

Clare stared at her friend sympathetically. The look on his face made it impossible for her to refuse. She missed their bonding experience and their late night binging adventures, where Audra would catch them and yell at them for eating all of the calorie filled foods.

"We're going to have the best sleepover, girl-friend."

...

"Mom! I'm home and Clare's here! She's staying over." Drew hollered, walking in with Clare. After school, Clare and Drew had traveled over to _Shop Rite _over in another town that was about ten minutes away. Roaming around the large food establishment, they picked a variety of different flavored potato chips, mini boxes of dessert cakes, overly large bags of candy, and three jugs of Arizona Tea.

"We brought groceries!" Clare shouted.

"I hope groceries don't mean junk food." Audra appeared, climbing down the stairs. "Hi Clare." She approached the young girl, giving her a huge tight hug. "It's so good to see you. Should I call your father to let him know you're here?"

"Hey Mrs.T." Clare laughed. "I'd really appreciate it. I didn't get the chance to call at all."

"No worries, sweetheart. I'll give him a call."

"Race you upstairs?" Drew challenged, Clare wondering where his sudden excitement came from.

"Uhm sur-"

Drew pounced up ahead of her, lightly shoving his mother. Clare raced behind him, protesting the unfairness of his deceit.

Drew beat her to the room and jumped on his bed in spirit.

"Guess that means you have to paint my toes, _girlfriend_." Drew mocked flamboyantly, earning himself a very agitated Clare.

"Hey, you know that I know what your least favorite color is. Expect those caveman toes to be pretty in pink." She folded her arms confidently.

Drew let his eyes roll, finding amusement in Clare's common persona to always get the last remark. Clare complained that Drew's room was messy, and offered to help him clean up. She ordered him to pick up his dirty laundry and dump it in the washer while she made his bed and organized his desk. Once the room was fit to be seen, they both dumped their groceries on the floor. They both loved the feeling of rich gluttony from seeing so much food. Adam had barged in at one point, intruding their feast.

"Oh great, here comes the vaccum." Drew commented.

Adam chucked a piece of candy at Drew and proceeded to pick what he wanted. Adam decided he wanted to play a private match of Call of Duty against Drew, and Clare just sat there taunting them both to make an error during the game and when one did make an error, they shouted manically at Clare who simply felt like she was watching a sitcom with two modernized stone aged men. Eventually, Adam grew bored and went off into his room to either sleep or surf the internet on his laptop.

Drew had switched from the game to the Netflix application on the Xbox dashboard and looked for something to watch.

"Remember when we spent two whole weeks watching misfits?" Clare recalled, sinking her teeth into a brownie.

"Oh yeah," Drew chuckled, holding the remote in his hand. "We were crazy obsessed. I wonder if we can find another show."

"Ouuuuuu! I heard Breaking Bad was good."

"Breaking Bad it is." Drew spotted the show and clicked on it. "This better be worth it." He sat down on the bed next to Clare. They were able to complete six full episodes together, until Clare drifted off to sleep. Drew contemplated playing a prank on her, but was captivated by her undoubted delicacy to want to destruct.

He set his thick blanket over her body and pushed himself under as well, gently scooting closer towards her. He grabbed her hand and held it in his. Clare's presence would always make him feel content. He'd always feel alone without her, even misunderstood. He genuinely valued her friendship and never worried about being left alone because she had proven that just like Adam, she would always be there for him.

He was able to dissent his filled thoughts of Zoe and the video, and fill them with Clare's aura, enough to allow him to finally drift to sleep.

**TEN HOURS LATER  
>2:00 A.M<strong>

Drew awoke suddenly, his heart pounding in his chest which appeared for no apparent reason. He was able to identify his position in the form he was sleeping, with Clare beneath him and his arms tucked around her. It was never anything unusual for them to sleep in the same bed and be as close as they were. Clare felt as if they were both just at a very complacent place with each other and Drew did as well. That is however, only what they claim to each other and anyone else who asks, which has only been Adam.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Guys, turn on the news!" Adam barged in after drumming wildly on the door. "Mom! Get in here!"

Drew and Clare both shot up stunned and bothered at the same time. Drew changed the televisions input and flipped over to the late news. Audra walked in tying her lavender robe around her waist.

"What's going on?"

"_Yet another murder here in the Di Grassi gated community. As of 2:10 this morning, four are pronounced dead. Victims have not yet been identified, but investigation is on-going…" _

Clare clung onto Drew's shoulder for dear life as they all came to shocking realization of the house in the background. Adam scurried over to Drew's window and swung open his curtains.

In plain sight were the compound fusions of red and blue luminescent flashes in every corner. Neighbors in sleep attire from around the entire community piled around the scene where they could, before the long yellow caution tape prohibited further travel. Ambulance officials rolled out concealed bodies and stored them in the back of the ambulance truck.

Exactly four houses down from where they were, lived the Matlin family.

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><p><strong>I hope that caught your interest! If not, I promise there will be more twists to come! Keep in mind that I DO attend college and have a lot to do but I will also make time for writing! This won't be TOO long, as I will pack the chapters with a LOT more than this. I'd aim for no more than ten chapters. Expect a little steam. Reviews = motivation = faster update! Thank you so much for reading. Much love -xoxo<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Another update! I am really getting into this story. Like I said before, it is something SUPER different from anything I've ever written before! I've had some speculative readers already guessing the killer...and you are...out of your mind if you think i'll tell you if you're right or not. Any who, I really hope you guys enjoy.**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2: A sad soul can killer quicker than a germ<strong>_

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><p>Once Drew, Clare, Adam and Audra realized that the crime scene being broadcast on their television resided just on the external side of the house, they rushed outside desiring answers and an unrealistic expectation that the monster responsible for the terror had been captured at the scene.<p>

Drew held Clare's hand and abruptly pushed through the crowd of curious human beings. Once the bright yellow caution tape hindered further action he stopped to find an officer surveilling the crowd to make sure no one trespassed.

Audra and Adam were just behind the two, and Audra approached the law enforcer on duty.

"Officer, is everything okay?"

"Everything under control. We've got our best men out here."

"So by under control, I'm assuming the killer is in custody?"

"I'm not allowed to release that kind of infor-"

"Oh, cut the bull. My husbands a lawyer." Audra snapped, catching the younger teens who were listening by surprise.

The officer sighed in disdain, not too happy with the suburban woman's tone. "The only thing I can assure you is that the only bodies found belonged to_ victims_."

"Oh, God." Clare sighed in a terrifying tone and Drew wrapped his arm around her shoulders to ease her.

Audra brought her younger son, Adam, into her body protectively; Clare's reaction hurting and upsetting her. "I expect your _best men_ to get everything under control very soon. There are hundreds of lives at jeopardy here and you withholding that kind of information from the public is a violation of your handbook, isn't it?"

The officer glared at her uncomfortably, but remained silent.

A sudden wave of alarms, rings, vibrations and notification tones echoed throughout the area and people were pulling out their phones, panic-stricken reactions erupting from almost every single person.

"What's going on?" Adam questioned.

Drew felt his phone vibrate and noticed he too had a mass message alert. "I guess we're about to find out." Drew responded, clicking on the notification.

The revelation of the memo was morbidly demoralizing. Clare couldn't even get through the video which contained a play-by-play of the murder that just occurred. It was much more graphic and well edited than the video of Zoe Rivas and her family.

The killing appeared just as planned as the previous one.

"Turn that thing off." Audra demanded with a watery glaze in her eyes watching her son glued to the inanimate object that, in his eyes reflected something strong enough to keep him dangerously poised.

Drew finally snapped himself from the video once it was over and turned to envelop Clare closer to his body. She buried her face into his chiseled chest as if she were trying to conceal her identity.

"You have to stay with me the entire weekend." Drew whispered lying his cheek against her hair, distrusting who the erratic killer might go after next. "No one is safe anymore."

**...**

**Monday **

**1:30 P.M**

The weekend lapsed by particularly slow, everyone anticipating each day with horror until Monday.

It was an hour after lunch-time at Degrassi High and Drew had announced a student council meeting to discuss a respectful ceremony for the Matlin family as requested by Principal Simpson and his precedent supervisor. Campbell Saunders had approached Principal Simpson and proposed an entire layout of how "Maya would have loved it" – as Campbell stated – since he had been dating her for an entire year.

Clare had the layout and details blown up to perceptively fit the presentation board. She animatedly carried on what Drew would explain on the board, assigning roles and ensuring that everyone was dedicated and on board with helping organize the tribute ceremony.

Once Drew felt confident that his council peers doubtlessly conceived the entirety of the gathering, the sounding block pummeled by a miniature gavel charismatic ally adjourned the meeting.

Principal Simpson waited for the students to exit the room and entered to speak with the two hierarchies of student council who faltered behind to pick up.

"I'm assuming everything went well?" The authority driven adult inquired hopefully.

"Yes sir." Drew responded, filling a folder up with papers.

"Great. Good news. Clare, you know Channel 8 news, the company you got me in contact with that you interned for over the summer? They agreed to attend the ceremony this Friday, so I need you two to write up possible statements for the reporters and get them to me by Tuesday night for approval."

"Not a problem." Drew shrugged.

"Wonderful." Principal Simpson sighed heavily, clasping his hands together. "Ah, and one more thing: Campbell Saunders typed this speech up." He reached into the inner side pocket of his suit. "He wants someone to recite this."

"Why can't he do it?" Clare asked curiously, grabbing the piece of paper.

"Well, Campbell doesn't feel too comfortable attending the ceremony and in respect I agreed to make sure this was presented."

"I understand." Clare smiled feign.

"Yeah, totally. I can have Imogen or Adam do this. No big deal." Drew added.

"I knew I could count on you two." Simpson pointed sharply at his students. "I've got to head back to make some phone calls." He finished before exiting the room and presumably into his office.

Clare sighed. "This is really burdening."

"Yeah." Drew agreed profoundly, following Clare out of the room and to her locker. "Who's that?" Drew raised his eyebrow inquisitively when Clare jumped quickly at her phone, which vibrated. When she didn't respond, Drew snatched the device smoothly out of her hand.

He squinted at the screen, his amused expression melting away. "Eli," He stated despondently

Clare opened her locker guiltily, neatly placing her council binder inside. "He's worried about me." Clare defended.

"It's an excuse." Drew retorted, looking down at the phone realizing she received another message from him. "You're going to visit him this weekend?" He asserted unbelievably.

"I told you he's just a little concerned, is all."

"_I can't sleep knowing that a killer might be inches away from you. I'm looking forward to having you in my arms again to protect you and show you how sorry I am_?" Drew read aloud annoyance and possibly a hint of jealousy laced in his tone that Clare sort-of detected.

"What's your problem?" Clare snagged her phone back.

"My problem? What's your problem Clare? I know first-hand what he's trying to do. I've been there, done that with the whole Alli and Bianca situation. He got caught in his own game and now he feels stupid."

"I get it but, Eli actually loves me."

"Love or no love, the dude needs to learn his lesson the hard way." Drew deadpanned, before Clare's gloomy blue eyes caused a pang in his heart. "Look, I'm only looking out for you. You're a smart girl and you can make your own decisions, I'm cool with that but, I just don't think it's a good idea for you to spend a weekend with him at NYU…in his dorm."

Clare shut her locker before turning to her friend again, completely empathizing with Drew. "I know you don't want to see me get hurt again, and I think that's what I love the most." Clare smiled a smile that regardless of how many girlfriends Drew has had, he always found something so distinctly sweet about hers that he deemed incomparable to any girl. "I'll think about it."

**That same night  
>8:10 P.M<strong>

The digital clock displayed an olive-emerald computerized time on the perfectly polished bedside table of Clare's spacious room. She remained studiously positioned at her well-organized wooden desk as her fingers pounded furiously over the keyboard of her expensive-brand personal laptop. In the midst of proof-reading what she created on the word programming document, an alarming view of someone attempting to webcam her appeared.

"Hey, beautiful." The smooth voice greeted once Clare answered the facetime call.

"Eli," Clare scolded, although she would have usually smiled so widely it appeared as if someone were tickling her, she found his compliment quite unsettling. "What do you want?"

He shrugged. "I missed looking at those gorgeous blue eyes." Eli said sweetly.

Clare felt a rising heat around the base of her cheeks. "Seriously, are you just going to keep saying things to make me miss you even though I pretty much hate you right now?"

"You don't hate me." Eli responded softly. "In all honesty I just really can't sleep after the second video went viral. I'm terrified that one day, it might be you and I don't think I'd ever live with myself knowing that I wasn't there to protect you."

Clare sighed, feeling an all too familiar pain in her stomach. She still loved him, but in a sense, Clare still resented what he did to her and how nonchalant he's been going about things.

"Look, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but have you thought about what I asked? You know, coming here to spend the weekend with me?"

Clare stared at him through the screen, analyzing his surroundings of posters and pictures all over the messy wall of his dorm room. She remained silent, recalling what Drew had advised her on when it came to Eli. Of course, the part of her that experienced every first with him wanted to, but the moral voice in the back of her mind reminded her that he has not changed and that she would be making a huge mistake.

The doorbell suddenly rang Clare out of her conflicted thoughts and she turned back nervously, surely knowing she was not expecting any guests.

Her father would _never_ ring the doorbell.

"Um, I'll be right back." She told Eli.

"Clare…if you're not sure who it is, don't answer it." Eli warned.

"It'll be just a second. The killer wouldn't just ring the doorbell." She argued unconvinced.

"Just be careful. If you're not back in two minutes, I'm calling the police."

With that, Clare got up anxiously making her way down stairs and to the front of her door. She inhaled heavily, preparing herself for the worst case scenario. She furiously swung open the door, and breathed a relieved sigh as soon as she recognized Drew standing before her. What had her shaken was his tense state of posture.

"Come in."

Clare stepped aside to allow him entrance. She shut the door carefully and turned to Drew.

"Is everything alright?"

Drew kept his eyes fixated on Clare, an obvious frown – not from anger – apparent.

"I…I re-watched the video."

"Drew Torres." Clare breathed hopelessly.

"I know." His head dropped, before looking back up. "I saw something. Some kind of random writing on the wall." He cleared his throat. It was apparent that Drew was still flustered by his findings. "'BEGIN'."

"…Wh-what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Clare asked, dread seeping from each syllable.

"I don't know." He responded strenuously. "But, it's obviously some kind of sick message."

Clare was determined to respond until she received a text from Eli, realizing she had surpassed two minutes of reassuring her liveliness.

"Let's go to my room." She invited gently.

Once they were in her room, Clare had appeared on camera and Eli had jumped up in relief, anger evident on his face.

"What the hell took you so long? You had me worried sick." Eli shouted.

"Dude, you need to relax." Drew intervened. He was easily agitated with the manner Eli approached Clare.

"_Drew_…" Eli's voice fell. "What's he doing there? Is your father home?" Eli began to interrogate with jealousy dripping all over his personality.

"Yo, I said relax." Drew repeated, falling down onto Clare's bed. If Eli were present at the moment, Drew was certain he would have hurt the mopey guy.

"No." Clare interrupted, not enjoying the tension between the two. "He won't be home until tomorrow."

"You are _not_ sleeping in that house alone." Eli declared.

"I, for once, agree." Drew retorted sardonically. "You're staying at my place again."

"Again?" Eli growled maliciously. "NO. You have your father's credit card, right? Get a hotel."

"The credit card is _emergency_ only." Drew broke it down, treating Eli like a challenged being. "You can stay with me, Adam, and my mom. More people, more protection."

"Am I allowed to make my own decisions here?" Clare finally took control, both guys falling silent. "Eli, I'm with Drew on this one. I don't see the point in wasting money when I have a perfectly safe second home at the Torres' place."

Drew smirked confidently.

"…_but _I think I'll be safe sleeping in my own home for tonight."

**...**

**FRIDAY**

**10:30 A.M**

Four boisterous and active days flew by, Friday morning dawning in. At 10:15, Principal Simpson publicly addressed over the speaker system a reminder for everyone to begin heading towards the auditorium for the tribute ceremony.

While students and faculty adjusted and arranged themselves in the multi-purpose assembly hall, Drew Torres kept his stance vertical and confident as he rehearsed his speech while his child-hood comrade, Mike Dallas, mocked an audience that did not coincide with the purpose of the event and Drew did not find his humor amusing.

"Chill man. Take some deep breaths or something." Dallas acclaimed.

"I am chill." Drew breathed heavily, adjusting his tie.

Imogen's eccentric spirit disrupted the tense ambiance. She walked backwards, Clare being pulled in, who strutted in an elegant composure as she recited her portion of the speech.

"Clare, what don't you do right? You're practically perfect." Imogen exasperated in a whimsical manner.

"I'm not perfect." Clare disregarded. "You're just an awesome coach."

Imogen smiled widely, her peculiar bun smeared correspondingly on her head. "What would you do without me?" She chimed.

"Ladies, ladies." Dallas approached the two girls. "I'm finding this kinda hot. Any chance we can catch a movie or something? Just the three of us." Dallas winked, comically.

Both girls responded with exaggeratedly choking and disgusting gestures.

"In your dreams." Clare giggled.

"Yeah." Imogen put her arm around Clare. "Clare and I are a double threat. Isn't that right snookums?" She taunted.

"You seem pretty excited for something that's about dead people." Drew commented immaturely.

"Dude…" Dallas flung his head disbelievingly at Drew, silently questioning his actions.

"…I guess that's our cue." Imogen bumped Dallas awkwardly. "I have to be backstage anyways. Adam can't work the lights all by himself." Imogen intertwined her arms with Dallas confidently. "Ever worked lighting cues before?" She asked, dragging a disoriented Dallas away.

Drew had presented himself in a neglecting manner towards Clare all week, but she decided to be ignorant towards him. Unfortunately, Clare hoped that he wouldn't address it at a time like this, but she knew him all too well, which is just what she expected.

"Not now, Drew." She fixed her blazer and reverted back to her speech, scanning her index cards quickly.

"Of course. You want to speed through this so that you can be on your merry way to New York." Drew continued harshly.

"Focus on your speech," Clare attempted to be oblivious.

Drew furrowed his eyebrows, becoming agitated with the girl who fumbled unintentionally with his hidden emotions. "This is so typical of you. You put on this stupid front where everyone praises you for being so smart and making the right choices when in reality, you are so naïve and weak-willed."

Clare dropped what she was doing, shooting a sore glare towards Drew, who emotionally wounded her.

"I'm not going to New York." Clare spat triumphantly. "But, thanks for telling me how you really feel."

Clare turned to leave, realizing it was slowly approaching the initiation of the tribute ceremony, but was cut-off due to a regretful pull on her arm.

"…I'm…you're not going?"

Clare shook her head, pursing her lips.

"I feel like such a jerk." He said apologetically. He instinctively encircled his arms around her, feeling extremely guilty that he treated her the way he did, especially after calling her weak-willed. Not a single word that irrationally spilled from his lips professed what he legitimately felt. He saw just how strong she was when she got sick over a year ago and mentally vowed to refrain from going unhinged on her ever again.

Clare returned the hug just as intoxicatingly as Drew's, sighing comfortably in his embrace, accepting his apology. "I was never really planning to actually go. Especially after knowing how much it would affect you." She mumbled into his chest. Drew pulled back from the hug, keeping Clare dangerously close to him, their face just mere inches apart. "But you have to promise me that you'll stop over analyzing those videos. It's terrifying, shocking, and just unhealthy for your well-being.

"I know." He breathed just as unevenly as Clare. They leaped into each other's eyes, analyzing every feature of one's faces, the unusually common connection sending tingling sensations of yearn for one another. Given the odd circumstances, having Clare around made Drew sense a complex passion towards her more than ever before and he was content with just that. In the past, his intentions with her were far from a love affair connection but, given the time frame and intimacy of their friendship, his heart grew fond of her. However, he always disregarded this due to his insecure feeling of lack of suitability.

"What did you find?"

Realization dawned upon the couple of friends how intense their closeness appeared when Zig Novak made himself suddenly present. His dark, brooding attire was never something common until the death of his family. To some, it may have been considered a stigma of a depressive state, but to Zig, it was out of much more profound.

"Excuse me?" Drew questioned confusedly.

"She said you over-analyze _the _videos. That means you've seen what I've seen." The younger student declared secretively. "The unidentified camera man, the detailed perfection of the attacks that makes you wonder how highly trained this person is…"

"The writing on the wall…" Drew finished astounded.

"I thought I was the only one." Zig started, pacing around the room. "None of it made sense, huh?" Zig responded darkly with interest.

Both Clare and Drew did not know what to think of Zig who wandered into council room. All Drew's eyes did was shrink tentatively, staring at the young buy.

"What happened that night?" Clare asked, picking up that Zig knew more than he explained.

Zig chuckled in disdain. "I can still hear everything that happened that night." His eyes were now shut, the recall of his memory creating an uncomfortable contortion upon his face. "She came to my door. I could have saved her but I was too scared to get up. I thought it was him since no one spoke when they tried to get into my room."

"Him?" Clare's eyebrow rose inquisitively.

"After…" He gulped. "…after he finished her…he knocked on my door. I never opened, but he never tried coming after me. He knew I was there." Zig shook his head, sighing heavily. "I haven't been able to forget his deep, creepy voice."

"What did he say?" Drew asked slowly.

Before Zig could respond to the anticipated question, Imogen barged in.

"Guys, they're waiting! Simpsons getting impatient. He's making the _face_ again."

**11:02 A.M**

Drew had begun his introduction, acknowledging and thanking each individual for taking time to attend the event during a difficult time. He began the first verse of is well-written speech and as soon as he reached his conclusion, he brought Clare out introducing her as not only his vice president, but as his right hand. Once Clare was finished, Adam and Imogen proceeded the ceremony back stage, whispering cues and expertly gliding buttons up and down.

The lights in the auditorium dwindled down dimly. The curtains were called to separate and reveal a screen that began depicting a movie.

Adams voice began to read Cams devotional sermon as a voice over effect. Small fits of laughter, sobs, and other heart-warming yet tear-jerking reactions transpired as videos and photos of Maya Matlin and her family rolled, emotionally stimulating the senses of every being in the room.

Suddenly, an abrupt electrical failure ensued, troubling a perplexed group of people.

On a farther side, Imogen went to find and question Adam pertaining the unplanned service interruption as he frantically flickered buttons, unsure of an alternative.

The screen began to gradually quiver unidentifiable abstract colors, indicating that the video was being tampered with. The screen was dropped, causing people to shriek suddenly.

The petrifying image feasting on everyone's eyes unleashed a combustion of inferno. Even the reporters had not generated a single word, letting the camera men capture the unforeseen event.

Campbell Saunders was dead.

His limbs were shot with cords that appeared painfully stabbed through his hands and feet. His eyes and mouth were sewn together so gruesomely, it indicated an amateur operation. His deceased carcass hung artistically, the embodiment portraying a twisted allegory to Puppeteer Theater.

"Everyone stay calm!" Simpson shouted hysterically, attempting to maintain order as he tuned his walkie-talkie to a security guard whom evidently had dialed the police.

A progressive beeping sound assented lowly, the pattern of the noise accelerating after one another. Drew, who still remained on the side of the stage tilted his head, scrutinizing Cam's body, detecting the noise was converging from within him.

Drew rushed to Clare who was on the opposite side adjacent to him, pelting her into the peak of the backstage on the right side.

In seconds, Cam's body splattered wildly like gooey paint. What was just as strikingly alarming as a detonating bomb from a dead body was the clattering of silver material penetrating into some people and falling onto the floor. One of the inanimate objects that had flown out of Cam rolled towards Drew, who held Clare on the floor, shielding her from any harm.

His locked her in his robust arms, his biceps keeping her in a protective grip, thanking God he had ran to her in time before the bomb had blown off her arm. He rocked her back and forth, reassuring her that she was safe.

"Drew…" Clare sobbed.

They both looked down in horror, Clare picking up what she identified as a ring. She read aloud the letters engraved in it and probably in every other one.

"Till' death do us part."

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><p><strong>AN: How was that? Let me know what you think in a review? By the way, this title is a quote from 'The Walking Dead'. The previous title I made up myself, but for future reference, some of my titles may be quotes from The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, or Prison Break. All my favorite shows and all of them have very dark quotes that will perfectly coincide with later chapters. Any who, when should I update? Let me know! I might do it fast if I'm hassled enough! lol**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: For those of you who have already read the first two chapters and have been waiting a YEAR for an update, I have changed the romance and plot of the story a little. As you can probably tell from the summary and the other authors notes. It is not JUST a Clew fic. It is a Degrassi fic, revolving around the two main characters, Clare and Drew. And supporting characters, Eli, Zig, Adam, and Imogen. You guys have no idea who the killer is (obviously because I have not revealed) but, suggestions on who should end up with who is welcomed. It IS a very dark story and I intend to take it further. I love it. If you do too then you'll enjoy it. Hopefully people haven't given up on Degrassi FF. The hiatus is too long right now, and I have been inspired once again. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Satan disguises himself as the angel of light. A false light will destroy everything<strong>

* * *

><p>"I am standing here in front of Degrassi Community High-school where a tragic and gruesome event has shocked and even injured the students, faculty, and families of this already grieving community." A professional news reporter stated monotonously for a camera-man which broadcast live to thousands of people nation-wide.<p>

It took minutes for ambulances, law-enforcement, and an array of journalists and news-reporters to arrive at the scene of yet-another morbid antic possibly performed by the same person responsible for the murders of the Novak family, the Matlin Family, and now Campbell Saunders.

"Drew, Clare, Adam, oh I'm so relieved that you're all okay!" Audra Torres frantically sped out of her car, under the yellow tape surrounding the school and towards the unnerved teenagers standing in-front of the new crime-scene.

"Clare almost got her arm blown off," Drew exasperated dramatically, holding a blanket around Clare. "I shoved her right before the bomb went off."

"Bomb!" The worried mothers eyes widened in horror. "This is a terrorist attack! Where is your Principal, I-"

"Mom! The principal is dealing with a lot, and I'm sure you won't be the only parent complaining." Adam interrupted, irate with his mother's over-protective nature.

Before Audra could respond and panic any further, a tide of almost- harmonious alarms went off throughout the scattered people. `

"I know exactly what that is." Clare wailed apprehensively, knowing very well that Drew would become enthralled with the disgusting horrors of what had just been recorded for the universe to see. He pulls his device out of his pocket, tapping the screen.

"He was here the entire time!" Imogen burst through the school doors and down the steps. "He was here and he knew exactly what to do and where to go! Dallas and I were with the security guard trying to take a look at the security cameras, and they were all tampered with. Even the one's Adam and I installed a few days ago for the ceremony." Imogen exasperated informatively.

"This is despicable, where is your principal? I will not have you kids coming to a school where anyone can just prance on in!" Audra averts her head and walks away abruptly when she identifies Principal Simpson.

"Drew, I have to stay with you tonight." Clare began, and Drew nodded. "Imogen, who are you staying with? You can come with." Her phone went off again, but this time it was an incoming call. She stepped away before answering.

"Hey, Eli…yeah I'm fine. I was almost caught in the explosion, but Drew had my back…..see, he isn't so bad….No, Eli you don't need to come out….well you can visit for the holidays, you're more than welcome but, only if things get better, okay?...Thanks for checking up, it means a lot…love you, too. Bye."

"Back together, huh?" Drew startled Clare, who turned around.

"No…yes…well not exactly. I love him, okay? He's making an effort. It isn't important right now." Clare whispered, wanting to remain discreet of her situation.

"You're right. Let's get out of here before mom decides to declare war with the Board." He responds, remaining respectful – for the moment.

**...**

Clare and Imogen were going to spend the next couple of days at the Torres' residence. Clare practically lived alone because her father was always out, and Imogens mother had been officially hospitalized for her severe Alzheimer's disease and had no one to really stay with. Audra had driven the two girls to pick up some clothes and necessities' for their stay.

Clare was sprawled out comfortably on Drew's bed, video-chatting with Eli while Drew sat at his desk, engulfed into his computer screen.

"Could you keep it down just a little?" Drew snarled, growing miffed with Clare's flirtatious giggles and her over-all interaction with Eli.

She removed an ear bud, before responding, "Ouch, mister grouchy."

"I'm not grouchy; I'm just trying to study here." Drew retorts, evidently defying what he claimed.

Clare sighed. "Hey, I'm gonna cut this short tonight. We've all had a pretty rough day and week and I think we just need some rest. I'll call tomorrow." She blows audible kisses towards her screen to Eli before shutting the laptop and completely removing her ear buds.

"So, everything you told me today is gone with the wind, huh?" His words reflected the somber sunset that barely, but dimly shone grimly through the window shades.

"No. I told you I wasn't going to New York. Eli and I….we're just working things out. I don't get to see him so it's hard for me to commit. Just..trust me, Drew? Please." She pouted, and crawled across the bed like a frenzied youthful canine. "Please please please." She begged playfully, until she extracted slices of smiles from Drew who couldn't resist her piercingly bright blue eyes.

"Okay, alright." He laughed, as she wrapped her delicate arms around his neck, embracing him lovingly. An embrace he unusually hoped would last eternities.

"You're the beeeest!" Clare sing-songed, pecking him lightly continuously on the side of his head. "Why?" Her mood shifted almost immediately when her gaze caught sight of Drew's computer screen. "I'm doing my best to be positive and not dwell so harshly on the fact that I was almost killed, and you're…still so fixated on this after you promised me you'd tone down this odd obsession."

"I'm not obsessed," He began to explain. "Look, there is something really off about this entire thing and after Zig spoke to us and – and Cam dying…I can't help but get this sickening feeling in my gut that there's something more, Clare."

She stared at him, a subtle eyebrow waiting patiently. He twisted in his chair back to the screen, his fingers briskly gliding over the keyboard.

"Look, when…Zoe's eyes were removed in that video," He winced "And Maya's slaughter resembled an exact c-section procedure…and, and Cam…his mouth was stitched…it's all a message. And the word 'BEGIN'? What does it mean? I can't shake the message." He pointed at the computer screen

"Drew, it _can_ be possible that we're dealing with a socio-path." Clare states, a reverberating pound clapping against her chest. She couldn't even convince herself.

"The killer knows exactly who his victims are and whoever is next is going to be killed in a really…dark…demented way."

"Doing what this killer does is as dark and demented as it gets." Clare reasons, sensing unsettlement around her lower region.

"You know all this deeper-meaning literary stuff more than I do…" Drew coarsely whispers knowingly.

_KNOCK KNOCK_

The ghostly silence is startled as Adam and Imogen enter.

"Sup, guys. We interrupting anything? No? Cool. Mom, Imo and I are running to the market to pick up a few things for dinner. Need us to pick anything up for you two?"

"I'm good...you want anything Clare?"

She shakes her head in response. What she really wanted couldn't be bought. Nor could she ask. All she could do was pray.

**The Dot Café – Sunday 9:19 A.M **

Clare, Drew, Imogen, and Adam were perched around a table, their coffee cups and plates resting usually on the smooth marble. Adam indulged himself in some animated comic book while Imogen bit into her warm pumpkin flavored muffin.

"Am I the only one who feels like total crap?" Drew grumbled about, rubbing his head painfully.

"Hangover symptoms?" Clare asked rhetorically. "Drink some more orange juice." She pressed, pushing the cup of sweet citrus towards him. "I told you not to drink so fast last night." She scolded, but knowing all-too-well that those couple of beers is just what he needed.

The night before, Drew tried going to bed early since he was dealing with sudden sleeping issues. However, he kept waking up and required much of Clare's undivided attention. Eventually, Adam suggested to buy a pack of beer and drink out in the yard. The four did just that and surely a couple of beers proved to be the most effective sedative.

"Brooding Novak, 12 o'clock coming our way." Imogen asserted quirkily.

Zig Novak entered, almost immediately approaching them as if he anticipated meeting them there. His attire was just as obscure and kooky as the past two weeks. Zig suspiciously slammed a manila folder directly ahead of Drew and Clare.

"Look through it. Don't ask how I got my hands on this. We'll meet again." He stormed off, inscrutable as ghostly apparitions that one would smite with blessed verses.

The four young adults exchanged disorganized glances, before Clare stepped up to walk the plank for mad pirates. She curiously spread the folder to behold its contents.

Clare gasped. The folder flew towards Adam.

"What the hell!" Adam exasperates, the photos inflicting a trauma induced needle into his retina.

"That kid is sick…" Imogen struggled to refrain from gaging. "This has to be him. We need to call the cops!" She bounced frantically before Drew pulled her down.

"Don't attract too much attention." Drew warns, skimming through more photos of Campbell Saunders deceased body. "Some of these photos were taken _before _the killer stitched his mouth. These are play-by-plays of how he inserted the bomb…and…distorted and tortured this him."

"Drew you have to report this. Can't you see its' obviously him." Imogen articulated painstakingly.

"This…_is_ from the autopsy lab, Imo." Clare finally came upon a treasure chest.

The four had walked home, discussing the photos. The images were far from disturbing. They were gruesomely obscene. They were hellishly sinful – vile. Somewhere amidst the introduction of Zig and the folder, Clare had come to accept the profound mysteries that Drew suspected. Adam and Imogen did as well. And this was an unbearable, never-ending procedure of child-labor – for all of them.

**...**

**Wednesday **

The days withered by with mellow angst, classes proceeded regularly at Degrassi. The bell signaled it was noon, where students hungrily transitioned into the cafeteria to indulge in average-health conscious food.

Clare walked into the student council lounge, turning on the complimentary coffee maker.

_Council for lunch. So much to do! Party Friday night?_

_-Clare_

_Grabbing food w/ Adam. Want anything yummylicious?:p_

_-Imogen_

_Lol xD grab me a pack. Don't let Adam see. See ya 3_

_-Clare_

_Gotcha! I see we need 2 talk. I won't. Party it is Claresters. U can always cross over the rainbow with me. Guys suck! Jk. Be there in 5! Xoxo_

_-Imogen_

She put her phone in her bag and exhaustively slouched onto the love-seat, flailing her had back while her eye-lids fell. Drew walked in, instantly fixing his attention onto Clare. He silently slipped his large, masculine hands over her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. Her startled reaction was merely for a moment before she succumbed to the pleasure.

"Who knew things could get so stressful." Clare expressed heavily.

"Tell me about it. We barely got any sleep because of me…we have another tribute ceremony to organize, council, exams, college-"

"Settle down there, grasshopper. Let's just take things slow." She grabs his hands that were massaging her ever-so gently and pulled him beside her on the love-seat, laying his head on her shoulders. "I hear Owens throwing a birthday bash Friday night. We should stop by and unwind. I'm down if you're down."

Drew chuckled. "Clare? You actually want to go to a party? A party that has nothing but booze, house music, and people who want to hook up?"

"Hey! I take that offensively!" She mocks. "I just think it'd be good for us. Given all that has happened so far. It might be too early, but everyone else seems for it for similar reasons."

"I'm in." Drew raises his head, almost visceral, invading Clare's space. "But you have to play a drinking game with me. Loser is the winners slave for an entire week."

"No no. Loser kisses the first person they see…with tongue." Clare giggles deviously.

"Gross. There'll be so many dudes there. Unless, of course I see someone…a girl…" He smiles; an intense gape is maintained naturally with Clare. He'd always found her to be attractive, but he discovered a preposterously divine beauty in that instant where he could kiss her and conjure her affections. Every single tragic moment that had occurred over the last couple of weeks had burned to ashes and disappeared with the wind. Ironically, he felt safe. He intended to kiss her…

"Don't host the tribute ceremony." Zig appeared breathless, startling the two friends who yet again almost leveled up.

"What?" Drew cleared his throat, standing up quickly. "Why not?" He recuperated himself smoothly.

"Do you want innocent _more _innocent people to die?" He bitterly seethes.

"The more tribute, the more people die." Clare envisioned theoretically.

"We're giving him – her more leeway to shed more blood faster. The victims aren't random." Zig explained, factually. Imogen had appeared behind the glass windows, stopping in her tracks once she noticed Zig. She listened intently, not wanting to disturb. She motioned Adam over as he continued. "The killer has a goal – a motive. That motive is in the town of Di Grassi and he isn't stopping until that motive is fulfilled."

"_Begin_, Middle, End." Drew pieces, recalling the written word he'd discovered. "It's a story. They're bringing it to life."

"What about those disgusting photos?" Imogen barged in. "How'd you get your hands on em'? Why go through all the trouble, huh?" She sounded accusing. Imogen was so innocent, yet so determined to acclaim justice and equality. It was the most noble trait about her.

"Because I want to know who ripped my family away from me. That night, he whispered through the key-hole. I could picture his dark, slimy lips taunting me. Daring me to face him. He laughed. He knew I wouldn't. He said I was…_different_ from my family. Which is why he had to eliminate them. I don't know why. He didn't want to kill me. But he _did." _His voice cracked somberly. "Dave. His father's a cop. Traded some dope in return to have him snoop around."

This was news to all of them. Zig Novak Rivas was just as orderly and maintained as his sister. It was nothing new that they were a fairly wealthy family, with an image to maintain, but the mere thought of seeing Zig drug deal was out of character; especially to one of the grimiest delinquents at Degrassi.

Drew and Clare, being the most influential voices to Principal Simpson arranged an emergency meeting with him. They met in his office and persuaded him to call off the tribute ceremony for Cambell Saunders. It was difficult, Simpson not comprehending what the teens knew, which is why they'd demonstrated angry complaints from parents and tugged at that claim and reasoning until he agreed.

**The Milligan's Residence, Friday night – 11:19 P.M**

The unsupervised social gathering accommodated Degrassi students, Bardell students, and even college students, some who were Degrassi alumni. Owen Milligan had replaced Drew Torres as lead quarter back once Drew was convinced by his best friend to run for president. He was well-known and exported a unique likability where everyone felt like someone if they were invited to _anything_ he was associated with.

Clare and Imogen had been there for quite some-time, separating from Adam and Drew when they arrived into the kitchen. They took a few welcome shots, which Owen so dearly referred to. They simmered, their bodies reacting to the alcohol. Drew was drawn towards the pyramids of beer and liquor, while Clare dragged Imogen through the dark living room, where furniture had obviously been discarded of to utilize the space as a musical mingling area. They scurried to the second floor and onto the main balcony. The pastoral, richly silenced gated community humming anticipation.

"Eli, Eli, Eli." Clare repeated, taking a pull from one of the many cigarettes Imogen had gotten her earlier.

"What's the issue with hearse kid now?" Imogen chugged heavy cranberry vodka from her red cup.

"He got rid of that hearse ages ago." Clare giggled, smoke piling out of her mouth. "I just…I miss him. Why did he have to ruin what we had? Ugh, I kind of wish I had gone to New York now, you know? But, Drew like, hates him."

"Drew doesn't hate him. He probably just knows his own species. He know's Eli's full of it." She scoffed, swallowing more vodka. "Everyone knows it, except you."

"You're an amazing friend, I love you." She rolled her eyes. "And then there's Drew. I've been getting extremely romantic vibes from him. I swear we'd almost kissed." She leans over the ledge of the balcony.

"Did you like it?" Imogen purred, snickering eccentrically.

"Imogen!" Clare exclaimed, provocatively. Imogen shared her drink and assisted Clare in taking a few gulps, wiping away droppings of liquid from her lips. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret since. I've been soooo turned on by Drew, lately. Today in council, his big strong hands massaged me and I got so wet." She took another long drag from her tobacco stick.

"Mmm, Clare. You're no longer a saint."

"Pshhhhh. Eli's amazing sex took me elsewhere, for a while."

Imogen pursed her lips and swung her head back, sipping on her drink once more, her body swaying to the pounding music. "Reminds me of sex with Fiona. She was so fierce." She reminisced, quietly.

"Ah, Drew. I shouldn't think of you this way." She turned to Imogen. "Fucking guys." She let out aggressively.

Imogen moved closer to Clare, wrapping her arms around her waist. Clare stuck the cigarette into Imogen's mouth, allowing her a swift pull. Imogen blew some smoke into Clare's mouth, their lips in spitting distance from one another.

"Holy shit." Adam uttered, walking in moments before, fascinated, allowing his camera phone to capture the events. "Drew, Dallas, get in here!"

The two boys appeared, watching as dazzled as Adam. The two beautiful girls rubbed their hands and bodies against one another, both their tight black dresses driving wild imaginations with the curves the ladies possessed so naturally.

"Mmmm Drew." Clare moaned between Imogen's soft lips.

Dallas slapped Drew's arm approvingly. Drew wasn't sober, but he wasn't fully dazed; a batter of arousal and jealousy stirring. Girl on girl action was a fantasy of his, but the ringing of Clare's obvious pleas _for_ him surpassed any casual dream.

"Does this convince you to forget about guys, now?" Imogen taps Clare's derriere. "Drew, Eli, even Adam don't compare to the sensual touch of a beautiful woman." She pecks Clare's neck, who drops her burning cigarette.

"You're smoking again?" Drew wrecks the construction of the intimacy. He leans over and picks up the cigarette bud.

Clare removes herself carefully from Imogen's ministrations, who shrugs her shoulders and begins chugging the remainder of her vodka.

Drew pulls Clare out from the balcony and into the echoing hallways. "I thought those days were over." He scorns. "You've recovered from one cancer and now you're trying to add lung cancer? You're something else."

"Oh, Drew…you're always a worry wart. Loosen up. Live dangerously." She shoves him tauntingly.

"I've lived a lot more than you have, which is why I'm like this. This is why I hate when you drink. You turn into a totally different person."

"Maybe you just don't know me. Maybe I don't know me." Fluids began dripping from her eyes. "Eli hurt me so much and I'm still rooting for him, Drew. Do you know how that feels? It's agonizing, thinking of who else he's using to fill my shoes."

Drew sighs, leaning one hand against the wall over Clare's head. "You're drunk, Clare."

"No I'm not!" She screams. He motions for her to calm down.

"Relationships die, Clare." He drops his head, tentatively. "People die, and it's a part of life. You just, you have to be courageous. It's okay to cry. But, it's not okay to hurt yourself." He flicks away a rolling tear from her eyes. "I know that we had our issues and you stopped trusting me with Eli problems, but don't feel like you can't still come to me."

Clare was evidently still slightly intoxicated and somewhat struggled to maintain focus.

"You're the sweetest most amazing friend everrrrrr." She clung onto his shirt. "You want me to be open again? Tune into this." She glazed his ear with warmth. "I imagined your hands and tongue all over me instead of Imogen's."

Lights flicker to a close in cohesion to Drews stiff region.

Panic-stricken wails bounced deprecatingly.

"Clare?"

"Yeah? She whispers nervously, her head pounding.

"On the count of three, I want you to run back into that room, climb through the window and call for help, Clare. I don't want you to hesitate for any reason." She nodded, her body shivering.

"One – Two -…Three." He whispers, his eyes riveted awaiting on the dark figure standing at the edge of the stairs, an unidentified object convulsing in his grip.

Clare was already gone.

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><p><strong>A few reviews would be ni<strong>**ce. Just let me know how you like it so far. Next chapter is already in the works. Would you like a specific update day? Have a great weekend.**


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